A Godfather's Diary
by The Fellow Marauder
Summary: While eating breakfast one morning, Harry is surprised to find he has gotten a package even more shocked to find it contained an old diary kept by Sirius. BlackPotter slash, among others. Special thanks for help from Yaoishoujo. PLEASE REVIEW!
1. Unexpected Delivery

Before I start this fanfic, I want to give a specialized "thank you" shout-out to my wonderful-beyond-means girlfriend: Thanks for helping me with this, Heather-sama! I am glad you don't get tired of me asking you for help on my fanfics (haha).

Disclaimer: I do not, in any way, shape, form or spell own the rights to _Harry Potter_. I am very disappointed by this fact.

Warnings Avalible: This is a yaoi ("boy lurve"/boy x boy)-type fanfic. If you are not okay with that, please don't let this site hit you in the butt on the way out of my story.

"So, what do you have for classes today, Harry?"

Harry Potter, famous wizard, glanced up at his second best friend over his morning bowl of porridge. Staring blankly into the chestnut eyes of Hermione Granger, it was difficult to tell from his facial expression if he was annoyed or was unable to process the inquiry. Hermione sat in silence, smiling patiently while waiting for her answer. While Harry just looked at her, Ron plopped down on the bench beside his best friend.

"You know, Hermione, that's not very nice." Ron commented. "Just because you don't have to go to double Transfiguration-"

"_I _don't have to go, Ron," Hermione stated matter-of-factly. "Because _I _studied and _I_ was able to pass my exams. Professor McGonagall said-"  
"'Anyone who is able to complete this lesson and preform the spell for me by the end of this week will be able to skip the double-Transfiguration you have scheduled the following Monday'." Ron completed, his voice in a high scratchy tone that resembled very little of the teacher he was trying to immitate. "I _know_, Hermione."

"Well then, "Hermione concluded, a smug smile on her face. "It is not my fault you two didn't study, is it?"

"What are you even doing here, Granger?" Ron asked, his ears growing pinkish with anger. "You could be sleeping right now instead of taunting us because we didn't study."

"You _could _have." Hermione pointed out. "I am trying to show that you two hold no responsibility for yourselves. Is this what you want your life to be like? Falling behind because you want to do something else instead of what you need to accomplish?"

"We. Had. Quidditch." Ron said, drawing out each word and syllable in an overtone, as if speaking to someone who is growing deaf.

"Not all week." Hermione retorted. "And not all the time. I caught you and Harry playing _at least_ two games of Wizards' Chess in the main hall of the dormitory- you could have studied _then_. And _then_ you would not be a sour loser because you have to go to Transfiguration and spend the next couple of hours working on the spell you refused to look at for over a week." At this point, her smugness went to full-out pride as she sat back to study the effect she had on her two best friends. Ron was glowering and his ears were turning redder by the minute; but he knew he had been beaten and could therefore not say anything back that would properly defend him; quidditch had been his best excuse.

Harry continued to stare.

"Well," Harry finally spoke, sitting back and pushing away his porridge as if losing his appetite for it. "I guess we have nothing to say then, do we? You're right, Hermione; as usual. And we should just stick our tails between our legs and forget this mess happened, then attend Transfiguration like the losers we are." Picking up a crossaint, he bit into it. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched in mild bemusement the reaction Hermione had. Everything about her body language showed her confusion. She tried to decipher if Harry was ridiculing her beneath his statements, or simply giving her credit where credit was due. As she continued her search for the true meaning behind Harry's abrupt words, the flutter of owls sounded above. Smiling, Harry put down what was loft of his pastry. "Mail's here." He announced unnecessarily.

As it had been for some time since Voldemort regained power, there were a lot less owls than the Great Hall had come accustomed to seeing on a daily basis before the dark wizard's return. Harry was not expecting anything in the mail after having never re-subscribed to getting the _Daily Prophet_; although, for some reason, he caught himself watching the owls expectantly. His heart fluttered in anticipation like it would if he was seeking something to come from one of the various birds flying throughout the room. Wondering why he would be excited for no reason, Harry was only mildly surprised when a brown barn owl plopped down on the table beside him and gave him a little 'hoot'; almost in saying: "'Ere you are, mate." A bit shocked, but having curiosity take the better of him, Harry removed a poorly wrapped parcel from the owl's leg. The nocturnal bird proceeded to pick at what was left of Harry's meal before giving another hoot, stretching it's long magestic wings, and setting flight.

Leaning closer to their best friend, both Hermione and Ron asked simulataneously: "What is it?"

Harry found himsef laughing; overjoyed as he looked at the package in his hands. He was not sure on any level why he should feel excited; especially since he knew not what lay inside the wrapping paper. "I don't know what it is." He responded to his friends.

"Then who sent it?" Hermione asked.

Harry checked. His heart fell as he saw it. "...there's no return." Both Hermione and Ron openly stared at their best friend. Looking up at them and meeting their gaze, Harry could instantly see worry painted all over their features. Trying to reassure them of something he knew they thought, he began: "I'm sure it's no-"

"Take it to Dumbledore." Hermione said instantly.

Harry paused, caught off-guard by her abruptness. "What? Why?"

"Just do it!" Sounding panicked, this emotion from his usually calm and organized friend caught Harry off-kilter.

"Hermione," Ron tried to but in on Harry's behalf, but Hermione was unbudging on this one.

"Take it to Dumbledore now, Harry! It could be something dangerous!"

"No!" Pressing the parcel protectively to his chest, Harry's eyebrows narrowed as he watching Hermione from across the table. "I'm not going to take it to the headmaster. What makes you think it's something bad?"

"Because there is no return address, Harry." Hermione explained in a rush. "And you know what the Order keeps saying about being cautious about your mail. If there is no return or no indication who it's from, it could be hazardous!"

"Why would anyone send me something hazardous?" Harry asked, knowing the question sounded ridiculous as soon as he had uttered it. In the reply, even Ron joined in Hermione's defense.

"Because it could be from you-know-who!" The two of them hissed.

Feeling his heart defalte as he was hit head-first with this possibility, Harry nodded his head slowly. "Fine." he agreed. "I'll go to the headmaster after quidditch tonight-"

"NO!" Hermione exclaimed, startling a few first years who were sitting a few feet from them. "Take it to him _now_."

"I have class in less than ten minutes!" Harry retorted. "McGonagall will already be chewing at us for not having studied; if I am _late_ for that class, who _knows_ what she'll do!"

"He's got a point." Ron muttered.

"Fine." Hermione sounded exasperated. Holding out her hands, she said, "Then let _me_ take it to Dumbledore."

Holding the package close to his chest one more time, Harry glared at her. "No." He responded.

"Harry!" Hermione stated shrilly, as if saying his name that way would convince the famous wizard he should give in to his friend's demands.

"No!"

"Harry..." Ron cut in, turning to face his best friend and look him dead in the eye. "Why aren't you willing to give it up? I mean, it's a great possibility you won't have to. It could not be from you-know-who after all. I mean, I don't think he is that stupd to try and murder you under Dumbledore's watch."  
"That hasn't stopped him before!" Hermione shrieked, losing patience with the two of them very quickly. Ron ignored her.

"Just take it to Dumbledore and he'll inspect it... you'll probably have it back a few minutes later, you know?"

"You don't understand." Harry muttered, shaking his head. "You both really don't. I _know_ there is nothing wrong with this."

"How can you possibly know that?" Hermione asked. It was evident in her tone of voice that her patience and understanding were forced at that moment.

"I just..." Harry began, being fully aware how pathetic it sounded. "I have a... feeling."

"Harry, feelings aren't always fool-proof." Hermione was quick to point out. "Someone can't ever really tell what they're feeling, so how can you be _so sure_ that that thing isn't lethal?" Harry had nothing to say. Knowing they were both right, Harry sighed heavily and nodded his head. Standing up from the table, he kept his head low as he mumbled a promise to his friends. "I promise I will take it over to Dumbledore's during lunch, okay? That's the easliest I can manage. Is that fair?" He watched Hermione for confirmation. Knowing she had won and it would be a pointless effort to try fighting with him more on the subject, she gave in and nodded her head.

"That's fine." Hermione curtly nodded her head. "Now promise."

"Hermione...!" Ron interjected on Harry's behalf. "He said he would go! Isn't that enough?"

"No." Hermione replied without a moment's hesitation. "I want him to promise." As she spoke to Ron, her eyes never left Harry's face.

"But-"

Harry raised his hand to silence the youngest Weasley male in his outburst. "It's okay, Ron." Looking square in Hermione's eyes, Harry said, "I swear. Now, I think Ron and I really have to go to Transfiguration; or else I would not have a body left to keep this promise to see Dumbledore."

(_Several hours later..._)

Feeling beaten, bruised and bludgened by the end of class, Harry and Ron (with a few other "losers who didn't study the assignment" from Ravenclaw and Gryffindor) made their way down the hallway with heavy heads and hearts. Very few by the end of the double Transfiguration lesson were able to accomplish the spell; and in those very few were not included Harry and Ron. Both had made a decent enough effort towards it, but Ron's wand decided not to work halfway through the lesson, and Harry was equally as unlucky. The spell itself was not a difficult one, and Harry was sure he could have mastered it quickly enough if his mind had not been pulled away the entire time. It had remained focused on that mystery parcel that still lay unopened in the bottom of his bookbag.

As lunch was right after the morning double dosage of McGonagall, Harry parted ways with Ron halfway to the Great Hall for their noon meal. When Harry tried saying "see you later", Ron turned to face him directly.

"Are you really going?" He asked. Harry was caught off-guard.

"Ron," he started off slowly. "You were on Hermione's side, telling me to go."

Squrming uncomfortably as he was hit back with this reality, Ron nodded his head and continued to talk in a much softer tone of voice. "Yes, but... you know... you don't _have_ to. I mean, it would make Hermione feel better if you did, but you don't _have to_ listen to us." Harry smiled. Seeing his friend look so shy was so endearing... almost cute.

"I know this, Ron." Harry stated. "But you both have a point. I should at least have Dumbledore look at it to be safe; not just because I want Hermione to stop nagging me about it. But, like you said, it's quite possible there is nothing amiss with it, and I can have it right back. By getting it checked out with the headmaster, though, I _do_ get Hermione off my back." Ron smiled, nodding his head.

"Alright. Do you want me to wait up for you in the dining hall?"

Harry shook his head in response. "No. I think I will be okay. I don't know how long this will take. I'll catch up with you later."

"Sure." Ron agreed, leaving his best friend and heading off a different hallway then the one Harry was facing. "Good luck, mate." Ron waved shortly before disappearing behind the corner. Harry smiled softly and nodded his head.

"I might need it." He muttered. Turning to face his own path of choice, Harry Potter's feet travelled down the familiar hallway to Dumbledore's office.


	2. The Diary is Opened

Harry Potter found himself in front of Albus Dumbledore's office entrance before he even realized it; his mind had once again been clouded by thoughts and curiosities surrounding what lay beneath the rough packaging of his parcel. It was a fortunate thing for him, then, that his feet knew the path to the headmaster's office so well; after all, getting lost in Hogwarts castle was not fun, and there was never any certainty how long it would take to find your way back to familiar territory.

The famous wizard must have been standing outside the office door for a little longer than the usual time, because Dumbledore's knocker started to become impatient. "The password, please. If not, kindly remove yourself from my view. You're blocking the sunlight." Startled by the abrupt rough voice disturbing the quiet, Harry jumped.

"S-sorry." He mumbled. Clearing his throat, he uttered a password. The doors to Dumbledore's office opened, but not before the knocker made a resounded 'hmmph' of disgust at the Hogwarts' student.

Stepping cautiously into the office, Harry felt his throat clam up with nerves. He had visited Dumbledore various times before, but each time he entered the office, the same emotions returned. Despite the very homey feel of the area, any visitor was well aware that that same room had been used by all the Hogwarts headmasters throughout history.

It was intimidating.

Harry stepped softly into the office, but his presence was picked up by Albus Dumbledore almost immediately. Nothing escaped the powers of observance of the only man Voldemort feared.

"Welcome, Mr. Potter."

For the second time that afternoon, Harry found himself jumping as he was caught off-guard by a voice. Looking in the direction of the sound, Harry's emerald eyes set on the magnificent figure of the current headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Dawning his own signature loud robes, Dumbledore's eyes sparkled a little brighter as a smile descended upon his lips. "How are you doing today, Harry?"

"Fi-fine." Harry stammered. Regaining his compsure from being surprised, Harry admitted the reason behind his visitation. "Uhm, Professor Dumbledore," As he spoke, the highly acclaimed wizard made his way gracefully dorn the circular staircase. "I received something in the post this morning-"

"Mhm-hmm." Dumbledore curtly nodded his head, showing he was listening. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, he walked over to his desk and took a seat behind it.

"And it had no return on it. Hermione and Ron suggested I take it to you and you can try to bespell it." Then, because he felt he was giving the headmaster reason to worry, Harry added quickly: "Not that I really think there is anything wrong with it."

Dumbledore smiled softly. With his elbows resting gently on the top of his desk and folded beneath his chin, he fixed one of his favorite pupils with his inquiring gaze. After allowing the silence to set in for a few moments, Dumbledore spoke. "If you really think there is nothing wrong with it, Harry, why are you here? Why not convince Ms Granger and Mr. Weasley that there is nothing to be worried about?" Fidgetting a little beneath the question, it was evident that Harry felt uncomfortable.

"Well," he muttered, averting his gaze from the headmaster's eyes. "I... I have this feeling that there is nothing wrong..." His voice faded off into silence, only to be drawn out again by Dumbledore's patient: "And...?"

"And," Harry continued. "I think Hermione has a point. I mean, it is not like it is impossible. And Voldemort has tried before."

Smiling approvingly at Harry, the black-haired Gryffindor felt his heart swell in pride. "I'm glad you listen to your friends, Harry. And although I am sure the Ministry of Magic would check every owl that flies in the airways (especially towards Hogwarts school), I will take a chance in saying that one owl could have escaped their powers of detection." Harry stood in silence, trying to determine if the headmaster was sarcastically poking fun at how the ministry works, or was being genuinely serious. Holding out his right hand, Dumbledore stated, "Give me the package, Harry." Retrieving the brown parcel from his bookbag, Harry handed it to the older wizard.

Dumbledore took the package and set it flat out on his desk. Examining it from all angles, he made a few mumbles of, "Oh, yes..." and "I see..." and "Hmm..." With each one, Harry's curiosity grew even further until he could not stand to stay quiet.

"What is it, professor?"

"Uh-huh..." Dumbledore seemed not to hear him, so Harry tried again.

"Professor, is there something dangerous inside?" Still not responding, Dumbledore examined it a little while longer. Finally reaching out, he picked it up off the desktop, raised it half a foot above the surface and dropped it. Harry instinctively cringed, as if expecting it to explode.

Nothing happened.

Cautiously looking up again, Harry saw his headmaster smiling at him. "It's perfectly alright, Mr. Potter." Harry was confused.

"But... you didn't _do_ anything to it."

"It did not blow up when I dropped it on the desk, that is good enough for me." The expression on the younger one's face must have been a clear indicator of his confusion, for Dumbledore let out a laugh. "I apologize, Harry. I should have told you as soon as I saw it. I know what is inside. It's perfectly safe."

"How do you know...?"

"I sent it to you."

Harry was even _more_ confused. "_You_ sent it?"

"Well," Dumbledore corrected himself. "If we must get technical, Molly was actually the one to send it to you. I was the person who gave it to her in the first place. I must say, however, I would have thought she would send it sooner. I suppose she's still angry with him a bit. They didn't seem to get along very well, did they?"

"Who?"

"Sirius."

Harry froze. It had been a while since he heard the name of his deceased godfather, and it was even more of a shock to hear it uttered from Dumbledore's lips; though Harry was not sure why that would be. "Si-Sirius?"

"Yes. The package contains your godfather's journal. It was found some time ago in Filch's office. Probably confiscated it to get back at him or your father. He never did like either of them much. Though," Dumbledore muttered as an afterthought: "He does not seem to get along with many of the students, does he?" Harry could not supress the smile that spread across his lips at that statement. "Either way, I sent it back to Sirius' house- this was at least a few years ago, you realize. Just after Sirius escaped from Azkaban. Molly found it and asked me what I should do with it. Seeing as how you have, unfortunately, had little time to spend with your godfather, I thought this was something you should have. He did, after all, leave you all his posessions. I'm not sure if there is anything in this journal at all, really. But it is yours, if you want it."

"I do." Harry responded so quickly that Dumbledore smiled broadly.

"Good." He nodded his head. "It is your property. And I can assure you that it's safe; at least from spells and hexes. The information inside might not be, but that is your responsibility now, I think." Lifting up the parcel again, the headmaster of Hogwarts handed it over to Harry. "There you go, Mr. Potter. Enjoy."

(_That evening_)

It was not until later that night that Harry was able to open the parcel properly. After having been told what it was, his curiosity for it increased exponentially, but he wanted to be alone when he read it. When Harry came into the dining hall for the last few minutes of lunch before his next class, Hermione and Ron inquired on what had happened in seeing Dumbledore.

"Was there anything wrong with it?" Ron asked.

"Did he take it with him, Harry? I don't see it on you." Hermione remarked. Harry responded to little of their questions. All he did supply was that Dumbledore had looked at it and had told him there was nothing to worry about. But Harry did not tell them what was inside the packaging. He felt a strain of guilt tugging at his conscience because he did not share this information with his best friends. He always told both of them everything. Yet he also knew that it was something of his godfather's, and he wanted to keep it to himself; so just he and his dad's best friend would share something Hermione and Ron were not also in on.

That did not stop the two from asking about the contents of the item, however.

"Come on, Harry," Ron whispered, leaning closer to him in the main area in Gryffindor tower. It was a little before nine o' clock and the three of them were sitting around the table trying to put a dent in some of their homework before the long weekend ahead. Hermione was otherwise engaged trying to explain the details of a charm to Pavarti. "You can trust me, Harry. We're best friends, right? You still have the parcel, so what's inside? Don't tell me you haven't opened it already."

Harry shrugged and shook his head. "I really haven't, Ron." Harry replied truthfully; not adding in that, although he had not yet held Sirius' diary without the paper wrapping, he knew what was inside. Ron pulled away slightly, fixing his best friend with a calculating stare for several moments.

"Are you sure it's not something you don't want to tell me?"

"Ron," Harry tried to keep the impatience out of his voice, but he knew that he had failed when even saying his friend's name. Turning to face him, he asked, "Would you please leave me alone about this? I'll tell you if I want to. We don't need to tell each other _everything_." Ron looked shocked. Harry was also surprised to find him looking rather crushed by his last statement. Before turning back to his work and ending any further conversation, Ron mumbled,

"I tell you everything." Harry felt another pang of guilt around his heart, but he did not give in.

"What did I miss?" Hermione asked, chosing that moment to have finished helping a fellow classmate and turn back to her best friends. Seeing Harry's guilty expression and Ron's heartbroken demeanor, she pressed: "What were you two talking about? What's wrong, Ron?" Neither of them supplied any information, and Hermione soon shrugged it off and got back to her homework.

It was not until Harry was sure everyone was asleep in the dormitory that he removed the package again from his bag. Sliding it out quietly, he crept out of his bed to sneak down to the main hall. Walking over to one of the big poofy armchairs near the fire, Harry sat in the chair and, as silently as he could, eased off the wrapping. His heart thumping louder and heavier against the bones of his ribcage, Harry was astonished no one heard that noise alone and came to investigate. What would his godfather's diary look like? He wondered. What would it contain? What would Sirius have written about when he thought no one was watching? As the diary fell free from it's brown paper cage, Harry examined it closely. It looked like nothing too special; a simple black leather-bound journal with the name of Sirius Black scribbled magically on the cover in a faded and tarnished silver colour. Lifting it to his face, Harry traced every inch of the cover; hoping to discover some secret from his godfather before even opening the book and reading what lay beneath the pages. The smells that came from the journal were a lot of the scents he knew himself; like the Gryffindor tower (he could smell the tower's scent, since he was sitting in it, but he could also detect the scent from the journal. Although a little musty from all the wear-and-tear it had come from). The rancid scent of Filch's office was on the pages, which was also something Harry expected. But there was something else... something that was also present on the book; a smell that jolted Harry Potter's heart.

It was the scent of his godfather.

The unkempt, dusty smell of his robes, the trace of sweat from his skin and the dab of cologne that he wore every now and then... it was all there. There were minute traces of it along the journal's surface, but it was present. Harry felt a tug at his heartstrings as the arouma intoxicated his nostrils. He had missed that scent so much; especially since Sirius' disappearance. Getting lost in the moment, Harry had almost forgotten the best part of having his godfather's journal: to open it and read it. These were the memoirs of a fellow Hogwarts student; the best friend of his father. It was not the once-convicted-of-a-murder-he-did-not-commit-and-running-from-the-law-fugitive Sirius; it was the diary of a fellow-Hogwarts-student-and-fun-to-be-with-troublemaker. Unable to contain his excitement and curiosity any further, Harry held the diary in one shaking hand while opening the cover of it with the other. Inside was scribbled in his more-kept-than-later-in-life penmenship his name, age, address and his house. Harry noted with some fondness that, for his address, he put "Hogwarts Castle"; not the delapidated home at number twelve Grimmauld Place, London.

Turning the page to venture further into the book, Harry was shocked to see the younger and happier faces of three teenagers he instantly recognized: Remus, Sirius himself and, Harry noticed instantly, the face of an alive and merry James Potter. All three of them were moving joyfully around the picture, poking at each other playfully and laughing. Harry smiled broadly at this photograph, feeling joy seep into his every pore. Lifting up the moving picture, he was even more surprised to find another beneath it. This also contained the images of three teenagers laughing and enjoying themselves; but they were not James, Remus or Sirius. The photo contained himself, Ron and Hermione. Judging from the clue in the background, he recognized the place as being the track of nine and three-quarters. Seeing himself and his friends waving back at him made Harry laugh. Perhaps Sirius had gotten a hold of a copy of this picture (from Mrs. Weasley, Harry suspected) and kept it in his diary.

The thought of that possibility made Harry's heart swell with pride.

Looking to see if there were any more pictures laying dorment beneath his own, Harry was mildly disappointed to see there was nothing. Shrugging it off, however, he turned to the first lined page in the diary and settled himself out to read.

_I have a confession to make_, the diary began. _I am in love with another man_.

Harry read and re-read this statement a total of seven times, and each time he read it, he found himself still surprised. Thinking it was a joke, Harry continued reading.

_It has been a while since I felt this way and it took me a long time to realize why I had these emotions; why I was always more excited and happy to be around him than anyone else. It is not as if I am seeking to be with a man because girls have no interest in me. This happened out of the blue, really._

Harry could not believe it. His godfather... was _gay_? When had it happened? Why didn't he ever say anything about it? Had he been in love with anyone when he died? Had anyone cried tears of a lost love when Sirius left them? Who was he in love with? Harry found himself fueled with so many questions, he felt his head spinning. How had he not known? Had there been a sign that Sirius was gay? Had his godfather ever tried to tell him? Seeking some solace on even a single answer to his many inquiries, Harry's eyes read onward.

_I don't know what I should do about this. He is my best friend and looks out for me. He's very popular with the girls, too, so I doubt he would even look to me for companionship. I still don't know how or when I fell in love with him, but before I knew it, it had happened. I was in love with the seeker of the Gryffindor quidditch team._

"Oh my god..." Harry mumbled, his eyes bugging out of his head. He was sure he had not been so shocked in his life. "Sirius was in love with my dad..."


	3. Enter Sirius' World

**ATTENTION READERS: There is something important that you must know to understand what is about to unfold as this story continues!** When Harry "enters the world" of the diary, it is very similar to entering into the world of a book. He sees everything from Sirius' perspective; his thoughts, his feelings, his actions, etc. Because of this, I have decided to do something a little DIFFERENT with this fanfic. Whenever Sirius' diary is involved, the story might start out with Harry reading from its pages, but it will CHANGE into Sirius' POV; in other words, you (as the reader) will experience what Harry is experiencing, by diving into the world of Hogwarts through Sirius Black's eyes. When this occurrs, the story will take on a first person standing instead of third person. I hope I did my best to explain it. This transformation begins in this chapter, so please be aware. I don't want to lose anyone with my antics.

Harry sighed heavily as he collapsed into his favorite comfy chair by the fire in the Gryffindor common room. Staring blankly at the far wall, another heaving sigh escaped his lips

It had been three days; three long days since he had opened his godfather's journal and read from its pages. It was not for lack of finding sufficient solitude, but because he was still not sure how to handle the news that was brought forth. He knew he did not think differently of his father's best friend because he was gay. The true shocker had been finding out who Sirius had been in love _with_. It was a hard thought to settle upon. _Had anything occurred between the two of them_, Harry found himself wondering. _Was my father gay as well?_

Hermione Granger's presence ripped Harry from any subsequent thoughts due to a loud slamming of textbooks onto the oak table beside Harry. Startled, Harry's emerald eyes focused on her in surprise. "I can't _stand_ her!" Hermione growled, her face aflame in pure rage. Before Harry could even open his mouth to inquire further, Hermione answered his question. "Pansy Parkinson." She snarled, looking thoroughly venemous. "I heard her tell Peeves I was around the corner and she _helped_ that little snipe throw his collection of water balloons at me!" Upon further inspection, Harry could see plainly how drenched Hermione looked. Her usually bushy brown hair was matted against her thin face. Clutching her fists beside her, she shook with silent rage.

Just then the entryway to Gryffindor Tower opened and in walked Ron. Spotting his two friends instantaneously, he bounded up to them happily. It was not until he was standing right next to Hermione that he noticed she was wet. "Gee, Hermione." He said, his eyebrows lowering over his auburn eyes. "What happened to you?"

Invoked by another wave of fury, Hermione let out a disgruntled, "Arrrrrgghhhhh!" before storming over to the spiral staircases. Enunciating each step, she stormed into the girls dormitory and slammed the door shut with such ferocity that some of the nearby paintings swayed from the impact.

Surprise eating away at his features, Ron turned his attention to his remaining friend. "What's eating her?"

Harry shook his head in mild sympathy. "Peeves." He stated. That one word answer alone was enough to satisfy anyone's curiosity. Shrugging the matter aside, knowing Hermione would eventually get over it, Ron pulled up a chair to sit at the table with his best friend.

"I have something for you." He smiled, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. Harry met him with a quizzical stare.

"What is it?"

"Something that will cheer you up." From within his pocket, Ron pulled out a wrapped Cauldron Cake. "I know you really like these, and I got one special for you. The Great Hall doesn't have them, but Dobby managed to snag one from one of the other fatter house elves in the kitchens. I reckon the elf won't miss one cauldron cake too much." Placing the pastry onto the table, Ron pushed it closer so it was well within Harry's reach.

Harry did not know what to say, or how to respond. So he simply stared at it a moment. Noticing this, Ron tried to help. "I've just been noticing that you have not been eating a lot recently, Harry. All you do is stare out into space. I know there's something wrong, but I don't know what. I was not going to ask unless you wanted to tell me something... but I still wanted to try and cheer you up."

A feeble smile spread across the famous wizard's thin lips. Taking up the snack, he pocketed it. "Thanks, Ron. I appreciate this."

Face glowing, his grin spreading from ear to ear, Ron much resembled a happy puppy who had just been praised by its master. Short of wagging his tail, Ron said, "Well, it was nothing." Then, as if taken over by seriousness, Ron leaned closer to Harry from across the table and said in a hushed tone, "What is wrong with you, mate?" Harry looked back at his friend, a little shocked by his question. "I mean, you have been spacing out for the past few days and you've been sliding behind on your homework even more than I have. Is there something wrong?"

As Harry stared back into his friend's eyes, he seriously debated telling him; confessing everything; dishing out all about Sirius' crush on his father and the diary and even the meeting with Dumbledore... but when his mouth opened to say something, Harry instantly closed it. Ron did not need to know. This was something Harry wanted to keep to himself, after all. Something that only he and his godfather would share.

Shaking his head lightly, Harry lowered his gaze as he stood up from his chair. "It's nothing, Ron. Really. I guess I just have not gotten enough sleep recently and I'm daydreaming. Or maybe I just need to fly some more. Sorry for worrying you. And thanks for the cake." Without another word, Harry turned his back on his best friend and softly made his way up to the boys' dormitories to retire early.

Once he was in his room, though, he did not sleep. For the first time in several days, Harry opened his trunk and reached down to the bottom of his things at the foot of his bed; where he had hidden Sirius' diary. Too intrigued to know what other secrets he could discover, Harry opened the pages to where he let off and started reading once more.

(_Sirius POV-- the diary_)

"How long are you going to keep writing, Padfoot?" Startled out of my thoughts, I looked up into the cheery face of my best friend. Heart pounding heavily in my chest, I choked out a response.

"Uhm... now, I guess." I laughed shortly. Closing my diary, I pocketed it within my robes with the quill I had been writing with. As I stood up, James smiled at me.

"What are you always writing about?" James inquired. "Ever since you got that journal, you have been writing like mad. Don't tell me you're planning on becoming a straight-laced student." He said it with such disgust, as if beoming a good student was paramount to evil. A grin spread across my face.

"Never, mate." I promised.

"Good." James winked. "We have too much fun to focus on our studies."

"Although..." Entered a new voice. Glancing over James' shoulder, I spotted Moony coming in from the entrance way to Gryffindor Tower. "It wouldn't hurt you two to take your studies a _little_ more seriously. There's enough time to have fun, but it wouldn't be an adventure to be kicked out of Hogwarts."

"Sure it would." James smiled. "We could start a rock band. Call ourselves The Failures. Our first song: 'We got kicked outta Hogwarts'. We'll make _millions_." I laughed aloud. One more thing I loved about James: he could joke about everything. Remus stared reproachfully at his friend. "Oh, Moony," James continued to smile, walking over to his friend. Sliding his arm over his shoulders as said teen placed his library books on the table in front of us. "Don't be such a noble example. Next thing you know, you will want to be a prefect, or something."

Remus stared at his friend. "I _am_ a prefect."

James let out a gasp of astonishment. "What? When did this happen?"

Remus lowered his eyes so he was glaring at his friend; yet the smile on his face showed his true emotion. "It's nearly November. I have been prefect for two months."

"Oh..." James nodded his head in understandment. "So _that's_ why you have been going to all those meetings and patrolling the halls... I just thought you were antsy." Moony laughed sarcastically and nodded his head as he moved away from James to stand by me, but his genuine smile was evident.

"Are you three ever going to get to your studies?" Came a voice from the staircase. All three of us looked over to see Lily standing halfway up the circular staircase that led to the girl's dormitories. "You _do_ know we have that test in Charms tomorrow, right? I _doubt_ any of you have studied; with the maybe exception of Remus. You're not going to get any OWLs, you know."

"Who cares about OWLs?" James asked, grinning at Lily. "I'm gonna be a rock star." Mimicking an air guitar move, he made horrible electric guitar sounds with his voice. I laughed. Moony smiled helplessly and shrugged up at Lily.

"Don't listen to him." He said reassuringly. "He's lying. The only thing he can do decently is play Quidditch."

Stopping his "rehearsal" instantaneously, Prongs glared at Remus. "Ouch. Below the belt, mate." Moony's smile only widened with triumph.

"I know flying is the only thing James can do." Lily stated seriously, no teasing fun present in her voice. "So that's why he's still in school- he's such a superb player that the professor's take allowances."

"Are you complimenting him or insulting him?" I demanded in my best friend's defense.

"Both." Lily replied levelly. James scowled at her. "I know he's an excellent Quidditch player... but he's still too distracted and doesn't care enough about his studies. He needs to learn that there is more to life than sports- that eventually you need more intelligence than speed."

"James' still in the room, Lily." I growled at her. "Don't talk like he isn't here."

"But I was answering _your_ question about him." Lily snapped, irritated. Sighing in disgust, she gave up. "You know what, Sirius? Never mind. You have always been Potter's lapdog," (I flushed.) "so I'm not going to fight with you." Turning her back, she once again ascended the the staircase. "Dunno why I bother..." She muttered.

Jumping in in an attempt to calm Lily's nerves, Remus spoke up. "I'll make sure they do their work, Lily. Even if I have to jinx them to get it done." Waving her hand noncommitedly, she disappeared into the dormitories and slammed the door.

I glared over at Moony as James shrugged and tossed himself onto the comfy chair by the fire, apparently having forgotten about any insult that had been awarded to him. "What was that for?" I challenged.

"What is your problem with Lily?" Moony countered, watching me appraisingly. "You've been awfully mean to her recently."

I twitched. "I'm not mean."

"You nearly took her head off!" Remus declared.

"Moony..." James started, flipping through the books Remus had salvaged from the library. "What is all this? Are you studying to become an Auror? Look at this stuff!" Moony ignored him.

"She didn't have to talk like he wasn't there." I supplied.

"You are." Lupin pointed out. My cheeks heated slightly as I glowered at him.

"_I'm_ not insulting him." I snarled.

"Pointing out facts is not an insult." Remus stated coolly, his patience wearing thin.

"Hey, look!" James called out happily, obviously distracted from teasing Moony's choice of reading materials. "Someone left their wizard's chess set here! Wicked!" Smiling broadly, he started examining the marble pieces.

"She wasn't 'pointing out facts', Moony. She as being crude."

Remus lost his patience completely. Grabbing my wrist, he dragged me away from James (who was starting to irritate some of the chess pieces) and led me over to the far wall. Pushing me into a corner, he hissed: "I know you like James, but you are taking this crush-thing a little too far. You don't need to take everything that's said to him as a personal insult. He can handle himself." I glanced over Remus' shoulder and watched James get yelled at and bitten by one of the chess pieces. "Why you..." he snarled, picking the one who had bitten him up and pulling out his wand. I looked pointedly at Remus, as if proving my point. Admitting defeat, Moony lowered his head and sighed. "Alright... so maybe he can't take full care of himself. But that doesn't mean he needs you to protect him." We stood in silence for a while before a light seemed to go off above the werewolf's head. "Wait..." he paused, staring at me as if he understood everything in that moment. "Are you _jealous_ of Lily? Because she likes James as well?" My face flushed before I had time enough to deny it. Remus smiled softly and nodded his head, understanding everything. "I see... that is the reason, then. That's why you've been so crass with her. But, Padfoot..." I glanced at him, my eyes meeting his. He rested a hand on my shoulder reassuringly. "Just because she likes him does not mean your feelings are any less meaningful."

"She stands a better chance." I mumbled.

"She doesn't stand any better chance than you." Remus stated calmly. "You just have to let him know, Sirius. You have to tell him that you love him. He has the right to know." My friend must have read the uneasiness on my face, because he leaned in and added: "And _you_ deserve to know if he has feelings for you. So just tell him." I glanced up at him to see him smile before walking off to join James and break up the fight between the quidditch seeker and one of the bishops from the chess pieces.

(_Modern day... outside the diary_)

_I don't know when I am going to tell him,_ Harry read. _But I agree with Moony; I would like to know if my feelings could be reciprocated. I know I love James... I don't want Lily to have him_. Harry had to smile at the last statement, knowing the future of what had happened; knowing he would never have been born if it had not been for his father falling in love with his mother. Yet, despite the outcome, Harry found himself rooting for his godfather. Harry would have wanted him to be happy as well, no matter who he fell in love with.

Closing the diary, Harry rolled over on his bed and noticed that the sun had begun to fade over the horizon. Hearing laughter from down in the common room, Harry decided to put the diary aside for another day and see what all the excitement was about in main room. He hid the diary back within his trunk before heading down the staircase.

_Done Chapter 3._

Oi: extra points if anyone can guess which anime character James (UNintentionally) acts like. (Yaoishoujo is forbidden from guessing. Haha)


	4. Making the First Move

Over the course of the next day, Harry could not wait to get out over his classes to read his grandfather's diary; it was almost an obsession. He did not bring the diary to class and slip it into his books in fear that it would be confiscated. Unlike Voldemort's diary had been, Sirius' was not bewitched to make the details unpenetrable. Aside from the fear of losing his godfather's book, he also did not want Hermione and Ron to know about it. He still felt ashamed for keeping it from his friends, but he also wanted Sirius to himself. He had never been able to have that when his godfather was alive.

Hermione and Ron had both known Harry long enough to tell when something was on his mind. During the break for lunch, Hermione Granger took it upon herself to inquire on Harry's strange behavior. "Harry, is there something you want to tell us?" The brunette asked as she placed her books down on the Gryffindor table in the Dininghall. Sitting herself across from one of her best friends, she watched Harry closely. Emerald eyes meeting her in confusion, the seeker of the Gryffindor Quidditch team shook his head.

"What are you talking about, Hermione?"

"Oh, come one." Ron sighed, sounding extremely irritable. He was still feeling the sting of his best friend's words from the day before. Growling at Harry, he snapped. "It's so obvious there's something wrong with you. But if you feel like we're being too _nosy_, then forget about it." Harry's eyes opened wide in shock as he gaped at the youngest Weasley male. Ron, however, glared defiantly once more at his best friend before downcasting his eyes. His cheeks flushed bright red in embarrassment as his eyes reflected nothing but sadness. Noticing this, Harry bit his lower lip and fidgeted with his fingers guiltily.

"I'm sorry, Ron." He whispered, apologizing sincerely for hurting his best friend. True to character, Ron could not help but shrug his shoulders once again and meet Harry's eyes to flash a feeble smile.

"It's okay." He muttered awkwardly. "I'm just kinda worried about you, mate-- we both are." He added the last statement to include Hermione quickly; almost as an afterthought. Harry felt his cheeks slightly heat up as his heart somersaulter in his chest. Smiling at his friends in appreciation, Hermione wondered if she was crazy in thinking that Harry and Ron kept their eyes locked longer than they would have normally. Shoving that thought aside, she leaned closer to Harry, breaking him from his staring contest with Ron.

"Harry, what's wrong with you?" The smartest Gryffindor pressed. "Is it something you don't want to tell us?"

Harry sighed heavily, trying not to act annoyed to cover up his guilt. "Nothing's wrong, you guys. I've just been worrying about Quidditch; that's all. Trying to act as though nothing else really was bothering him, Harry grabbed his bag and muttered that he had to get back to Gryffindor Tower seeing as how they were free after lunch that day. His two best friends sat staring at each other, unsure what to think. After all, he had _sounded_ more-or-less alright; but his actions had suggested otherwise.

Back inside his dormitory, Harry tossed aside his books before grabbing his godfather's diary and father's invisibility cloak. He retrieved the latter knowing that Hermione might eventually send Ron in to talk to him. Harry was determined to remain undisturbed. So, diary in hand, invisibility cloak over his head, he curled up on his bed and began reading from where he left off.

_It has been several days since that last incident with James, Lily and Remus. Despite Moony's pleas, I still won't apologize to Lily. I can't stand her. I want James all to myself... is that too much to ask? I don't dislike Lily; I just don't want her stealing Prongs from me. _

(_Sirius' world/Hogwarts/Gryffindor Tower_)

I heard a distinct sigh as someone passed by the foot of my bed. Glancing up over the cover of my diary, my eyes fell on Moony. "Padfoot, how long are you going to write down your feelings in that book?"

I twitched. "What else do you suggest I do with my time?" Remus let out a laugh.

"Homework, for one." He suggested in a tone that could only be described as I-doubt-you've-even-looked-at-your-assignments skepticism. "You could try studying. Classes aren't going to get any easier and you're falling behind as it is. You and James both." I smiled softly, finding comfort in that fact that James and I shared something-- even if it was, as Remus put it, "academic deliquincy". Recognizing the look on my face for what it truly was, a sigh of disgust escaped Moony's lips. "You shouldn't be so happy with your situation, Sirius."

"I don't care." I muttered, ignoring Moony and going back to my diary. I could feel Remus' eyes watching my every move for several minutes. I was about to snap at him to leave me alone when I felt the weight shift on my bed; Remus had sat down near my feet.

"If you're so adament on writing," He started. "Why not write James a letter?"

I froze. Looking up, my eyes slowly met his. "A letter?" I repeated. He smiled softly and nodded his head.

"Yeah. You're obviously too shy to tell him how you feel," (I blushed and scowled at him, but said nothing because we both knew he was right). "And James can be too dense to notice your feelings, so write him a letter."

I paused for several minutes, watching him unblinkingly. Finally I muttered, "You want me... to write James a letter... telling him how much I love him?" Without speaking, Moony nodded his head in response. An encouraging grin sliding across his lips. "Why?"

Upon my last inquiry, impatience took my close friend over. Smile disappearing from his face, he countered, "Why not?"

"Because I don't want to act like some foolish schoolgirl by writing my best friend a letter."

"Then you'd rather be miserable and live a life of unrequited love?" Remus snarled, his eyes blazing as he looked at me. "He could have feelings for you, Sirius. _You_ have to make the first move."

"Why me?" I asked bitterly.

"Cuz you fell in love with him first." Remus snapped. Standing up, he clenched his fists at his sides. "All I want is to see my two best friends happy; but I can't force that, you know. You need to stop being a coward and face your feelings for the person you love. Until then, stop bitching to me about how Potter doesn't love you!" Storming from the room, Moony left me staring at his back, stunned.

For the rest of the day and into the evening, Moony and I didn't say another word to each other. We hung out with James and Peter, but barely exchanged even the basic of dialogue. He seemed rather miffed the entire day; even James took notice. Towards the end of the day, guilt started to set in. As the sun faded over the great lake, my eyes wandered over to Remus. I watched him for several minutes, my heart sinking into my chest. I knew Remus was only trying to help. So, for the first time since that morning, I set aside my pride and thought out his suggestion.

When James decided to sneak down to the kitchens to steal food and harrass some house elves, I pulled Moony aside. "Are you sure this letter will work?" Remus, looking shocked that I had decided to talk to him, quickly recovered. Shrugging, he replied,

"It couldn't hurt."

I paused, thinking hard on the idea. I was tired of living the life of the loyal best friend and victim of unrequited love. I wanted to know how James felt about me.

"Would you..." I felt my face heat up drastically as I attempted to ask a favor of my best friend. To add to my embarrassment, I could not meet Remus' eyes. Focusing on the Gryffindor crest on his robes, I muttered, "Would you... help me... give it to him?"

Although I was not looking at him, I could tell Remus was shocked. There passed several minutes as we stood in awkward silence; one that seemed to prickle my skin. Finally, Remus answered my lingering inquiry.

"If you want me to, I will." He stated matter-of-factly. At that moment, I looked up and my eyes met his.

"Re-really?" I scarcely allowed myself to believe it.

"Yeah." He replied sincerely. Looking into his determined eyes, my heart jolted within my chest. Before I knew it, a smile had engulfed my face and I threw my arms around him quickly in happiness. As soon as I let go, I saw him standing frozen as if he was bespelled.

"Thank you, Moony." I grinned, unable to control my excitement. Without being able to sit still, I left him behind in the common room to rush to my journal and write Prongs a love letter.

(_back with Harry..._)

Harry's emerald eyes gazed across the familiar etching of his godfather's handwriting. There were a lot of beginnings to lettered that were blackened out or shattered-- fragments of sentences that attempted to convey Sirius' feelings. Through the obscurities, Harry tried to make sense of Padfoot's first drafts.

_James, there is something I need to tell you--_

_Prongs, I need to talk to you about something--_

_I LOVE YOU, JAMES POTTER!_

In the margins, Sirius has scribbled little insults and comments to himself. _No, idjit!_; _Too formal!_; or _this is stupid! It's never going to work!_ When Harry turned the page over, there was clearly a page missing from the diary. The fragments of the missing page were still evidenced in the spine of the journal. On the next page, there was a short entry-- very short compared to the others. Ass he wrote was: _After all my thinking and writing and rewriting, I have my letter to James written!_ Harry felt his heart skip a beat in excitement. He turned the page over, looking for a copy of the letter; but his heart deflated when he saw no such thing existed. All that stared back at him was the beginning of another journal entry a few days post.

Harry Potter sighed, closing the journal and pulling the cloak off his head. Glancing outside the window, he saw the sky darkening into night. Dread swept through his veins as he realized he had just spent the entire afternoon captivated in Hogwarts decades before, and none on his homework. Hermione was going to get mad at him again.

A knock came on the door to the dormitory jolting Harry from his thoughts. Seamus stuck his head inside. Spotting the famous wizard, a gbrin succumbed his lips. "Hey, mate. Wanna play a game of Wizard's Chess?" Glancing over at his books that still lay in wait to be studied, Harry knew he would never be able to concentrate on his work as he should. Shrugging, he nodded his head. "Sure." Getting up to follow his friend down to the common room, Harry glanced one last time at the cloak that covered his most precious possession. Smiling softly, he turned and closed the door behind him as he headed down the circular staircase.

Author's Notes: I know it has been way too long. Don't hate me!!! I will try and update this story soon to make up for the fact I haven't in a while. Please be patient with me!!!


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